Like blood out of a wound, a keening wail rose from the bottom of my heart and ripped through the graveyard. I lowered my face to Hadassah's shoulder and went quietly and thoroughly to pieces.

Life is not being sure what will come next or how it will come. We guess at everything we do. We take leap after leap in the dark and that's the joy of living and the beauty of faith. When we grow tired, when we sit still, that's when we begin to die.... One does not discover new lands without consenting to lose sight of the shore for a very long time.

Our town was known for two things--no, three: salted fish, expertly dyed fabrics, and corruption.

Briefer is better, so learn to write tight